yep yep ya'll....

today is my old man's birthday. 57 years old. he reads this shit every once in a while. only when he wants to be depressed and question the job he did as a father.

i am not and never have been one of those guys from my generation who blame their existence on their parents. both of my parents did as good a job as they could raising me. it is not easy to raise a genius, prophet, and cultural icon and they tried their best. god bless em'.
happy birthday dad. you're the best and i love you.

anyway, i don't have much to say today. i guess i could play in the hay or stay away. or take a u.a. when the d.a. says okay. stop rhyming, i mean it.

getting back to what i was saying which was absolutely nothing....
i was watching cmt last night. don't ask me why. i just like to get my hatred pumping a little every so often. it keeps me warm. to make a short story long, they're having a "Outlaws" concert on there. i forget when, but the lineup includes: kid rock, hank jr., montgomery gentry, big and rich, gretchen wilson, and a host of other tools.

are you fucking kidding me? big and rich are outlaws. montgomery gentry.... please.

i could kick all four of their dumbasses in a matter of minutes. i'm gonna go out on a limb here and say, i bet not a one of those fucks have ever been in jail a day. big and rich....for christ's sake. could you give me a break,....once?

i was under the impression that outlaws in the music business are the ones that don't do fucking videos and record their own songs in their own studio however the fuck they want to.

why don't they throw the rascal flatts and emerson drive in there too?

hank jr. has become a fucking cartoon character of himself and i'm so dissappointed in him that i could puke blood. his last song that hit the charts was, "Naked Women and Beer". how long did it take you to write that piece of shit, bocephus? goddamn. that's all i want to see is a hank jr. come out and take his shirt off and start doing his redneck belly dance with his hairy ass gut hanging over his leather pants and those god awful looking leather sleeves he wears. what the fuck are those anyway? moving right along..... next is the outlaw himself, kid rock. how's your career coming along now kid? you're on cmt. what a fucking a renegade you are. a true outlaw. he's about as much of an outlaw as keith urban.

i can hear you all now, "yeah scott, i bet if you got to do a show with hank jr. and kid rock, you'd kiss their ass." or, "you're just jealous, scott".

i've got a two word response for you. it starts with a fuck and ends with a you.

if i met hank jr., i would tell him he's a fucking joke and dare him to fight me and then i'd kick his ass all over the goddamn place and take off my belt and start whipping him like red headed stepchild until he begged for forgiveness and admitted what a ridiculous joke he's become. and then after he's all crying like a little bitch, i'd spit on him and proceed to open up another can of whoop ass on kid rock. i bet i could beat his trailer park white trash ass inside of twenty seconds. please someone call me to do a celebrity death match with him. then i'd take montgomery gentry and pound their fucking blocks together like moe on the three stooges and after that i'd put their heads close together with their mouths open and start pissing all over their fucking faces. yeah, that's what i'd do.

outlaws... whatever..

i guess i had a little more to say than i thought.

i just got back from my son's last football game. he ran for two touchdowns and threw for another. you know dat's right.

it was a little hard to focus on the entire game because i had to listen to the cheerleaders do the same four cheers over and over and over and over. "our team is what? red hot our team is what? red hot. our team is R E D with a little bit of H O T. yeah baby yeah baby yeah. our team is red hot." please shut the fuck up while i watch my son dominate this game. is that possible? then they started trying to get everyone to stand up and show some spirit. please leave me alone, it's fourth and two and i'm trying to watch the goddamn game.

if women want to know why the make less money than men for the same amount of work, look no further than the institution of cheerleading.

they completely belittle themselves with every passing moment. young girls showing as much leg and ass as possible jumping up down like a bunch of monkeys. it is sickening and someone should do something about it. do you really think if they did away with cheerleading anyone would give a fuck? do you think anyone goes to football games to see cheerleaders? okay, maybe their parents and a few perverts. but other than that......no one. they don't even know what fucking cheer to do at the appropriate time. they're chanting, "Get that ball, get that ball, get that ball back!"

we're on fucking offense you stupid bitches.

man, i feel bad about calling seventh grade girls bitches.

as i was leaving the game, i saw several other girls that looked to be in the twelve to thirteen year old range. anyway, they were dressed up exactly like paris hilton. paris hilton, for crying out loud. the biggest whore ever. that is your role model, girls. try to have as many sex videos out as possible and be as ignorant as you can and you'll be a star. there's a future in uneducated sluttiness.

dude, i think i may have spread enough joy and happiness for one day.

i did want to thank the stragglers and jason boland for getting us an opening slot this past saturday. we had a blast and it felt good to be in front of a real crowd. thanks to roger ray for sitting in on steel on our set and to monte peliti for selling those 3 cd's. i blew it all at peacock's. thanks also to heath for having us out at city limits. he's always been good to me. i'll be back there on nov. 3 for an acoustic show. it oughta be fun. i need to tune up my solo skills a little anyway.

happy birthday dad. i know you loved this one. it was just for you.

be cool everyone... i do thank you for reading and for everyone that mentions my thoughts to me. it does mean a lot to me and i ain't playin'.

vroooooooooom,

scott